


A Year of Beginnings

by Starrie_Wolf



Series: Starrie's Yuletide Gifts 2019 [4]
Category: Bleach, Fruits Basket
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different TYBW Ending, Alternate Universe - Honda Tohru does not exist, Crossover, Fruits Basket elements have been heavily modified, Gen, Ichigo is a tired suburban dad, Kurosaki Ichigo replaces Honda Tohru, Post-Canon (Bleach), Post-TYBW, Pre-Canon (Fruits Basket)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:54:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22000072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starrie_Wolf/pseuds/Starrie_Wolf
Summary: Qué será, será. Whatever will be, will be. What won’t happen, won’t.It's an apt saying to be applied to his current situation, Ichigo feels. He might be trapped in a new dimension with no way to get home, but here, he's got a chance to start over.
Relationships: Kurosaki Ichigo/Sohma Shigure
Series: Starrie's Yuletide Gifts 2019 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1579774
Comments: 58
Kudos: 547





	A Year of Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sky_King](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sky_King/gifts).



> Prompt: Shigure x Ichigo, banter
> 
> Merry Christmas, Hector! Hope you enjoy this!
> 
> (Friendly warning that idk anything about Fruits Basket - it's wikia time again)

Ichigo sighs as he hammers in the next tent peg with the flat of a blade, cursing the Soul King’s Throne again for good measure. Of all the stupid stunts it can pull… one thing’s for sure, it’s even worse than Urahara at actually asking him about things, and Ichigo hadn’t even known it was possible until he got dumped in what is, apparently, an alternate universe.

It’s a really good thing that he’s still carrying the camping supplies they used while they had been hunting down the Wandenreich in Hueco Mundo a few days back, or Ichigo would have nothing to shield him from the elements tonight.

Not that he would have picked differently, of course – between sacrificing himself to stop Yhwach, and potentially dooming all three worlds to having that megalomaniac as their lynchpin, Ichigo knows which option he would have agreed to in a heartbeat. He just wishes that the Throne had, you know, _asked_.

On the bright side, though, “sacrificing himself” does not apparently equate to “dying”. On the… not-so-bright-side, Ichigo could really have used a guided tour or something before the dimensional rift dumped him… wherever this is. A forest in the Human World? The precursor to the Menos Forest? The Throne had been able to induce visions, show them flashes of alternate realities, so why didn’t it give him a quick rundown of the reality it’s sending him to is another serious point of contention.

Ichigo unwraps a ration bar and bites into it viciously. He supposes he’ll just have to count his blessings for now: all his friends and family are safe; plus he’s got food, and water, and a roof over his head in case of rain. It’s a win for everyone but Yhwach.

Even if he can never see them again, it’ll be worth it.

* * *

It is not worth it.

Ichigo blinks at the vaguely-smiling man dressed in traditional green garb, who’s currently trying to tell him that he can’t just pitch a tent on private property and expect to get away with it. It’s far too early in the morning when the scuffle of waraji outside his tent jolts him awake, and for one single glorious moment Ichigo had thought one of his shinigami friends had managed to track him down.

“There’s no sign that this is private land,” he points out. He had been trudging for _hours_ , trying to find civilisation, before finally admitting defeat. There had been no signs that this stretch of forest was inhabited at all.

“You must have passed the property boundary to even get to where we are,” the stranger insists, and Ichigo is having a very hard time trying not to call him _Urahara-san_ by accident. It’s not just the clothes; the mannerisms are slightly different, this man holds no fan nor bucket hat, but the calculating glint in his eyes is pure Urahara. “I will have to call the police if you don’t leave.”

“Well, I’m sorry.” Ichigo rubs the sleep from his eyes. “Just let me pack up and point me in the direction of the nearest town then.” He’s sure he can figure something out. He’s got a tent to live in, and he’s good enough at menial labour that he can easily get a basic job somewhere.

The man eyes him for a moment longer.

“Well, I won’t ask about your circumstances, but it seems as though you have fallen upon hard times recently.” Yes, Ichigo thinks drily. The fact that he is sleeping in a _tent_ in the middle of the woods would have clued even Keigo in. “In that case, let me make you an offer: I find myself in need of a housekeeper, and in return for your good behaviour I may be convinced not to call the police on you for trespassing.”

Ichigo eyes him dubiously, but nods his head in acceptance and turns to begin packing up his camping supplies. If he’s had any doubts that this man is this universe’s version of Urahara, that would have dispelled it.

“Must you make everything sound so shady?” he mutters to himself, shoving his tent back into its bag, while this man just stood around without helping. What is it with Uraharas in every universe and their predilection for attempted blackmail?

In any case, unless this Urahara is secretly a retired ninja too, Ichigo feels fairly confident that he can take him.

* * *

Walking through the sliding doors of his new lodgings feels like _déjà vu_. Even the house looks similar to Urahara Shōten, all wooden panelling done in the traditional style, with an incongruous car parked to the side.

Ichigo shakes his head to dispel the feeling. This isn’t Urahara, he reminds himself. Urahara can be counted upon to take into account Ichigo’s best interests. This man will only act in his own best interests, like Urahara when they first met.

Entering the living room, the thing that stands out the most to him are the bookshelves that cover every available wall, completely different from the Shōten. Out of curiosity, Ichigo walks closer to one of them.

It’s clear at a glance that this man has several favourite authors, he notes. Half the shelves in the bookcase he is inspecting contain a collection of works by one _Sohma Shigure_ , while the shelves above those are filled with what appears to be a series written by one _Kiritani Noa_.

Idly, Ichigo picks one up. “The Summer-Coloured Sigh,” he reads aloud, catching the series title emblazoned on the cover. Not a book he’s heard about before, that’s for sure. Ichigo cracks it open.

Several pages later, he calmly shuts the book again and returns it to the shelf.

“You can read English.”

The strange man has been standing there this whole time, but now he walks forwards, coming to a stop beside Ichigo. Ichigo just shrugs. He doesn’t know how to explain that he had been planning to get a degree in English, once the whole war was over. It’s obviously not a possibility now.

“I wrote these,” the man says, nodding his chin at the book Ichigo has just replaced. His eyebrow is raised almost challengingly, as though daring Ichigo to make something of it.

Ichigo just shakes his head. It seems that in any universe, Urahara is going to openly be a pervert.

“So, Kiritani-san?” Ichigo asks. It would be nice to put a name to the face, given that the man still hasn’t introduced himself.

“Sohma Shigure, actually.” Sohma waves a hand at the lower shelves. “Kiritani’s just a pen name.”

He cocks his hip like the name is supposed to mean anything to Ichigo. Maybe it does, in this world, but unfortunately for him Ichigo has only been an inhabitant of this world for a little over twelve hours and he spent half that time being asleep and the other half slogging through a forest.

“Kurosaki Ichigo,” he replies. “Nice to meet you, Sohma-san.”

Sohma’s eyes narrow.

“Call me Shigure,” he finally says, instead of whatever that’s making him look like Urahara when he’s hatching a new plan. “Everyone living in this house is a Sohma, and more of them visit on a regular basis.”

“Shigure-san, then,” Ichigo acknowledges.

As though on cue, his stomach gives a loud gurgle, reminding Ichigo that all he’s had was a ration bar the previous night, after days of non-stop intensive fighting. He’s no Yoruichi, but he feels like he can eat a whole cow right now.

Shigure smiles very slightly. It looks like a smirk on his face, but Ichigo has long learnt to read the amusement in someone’s eyes. He probably infuriates everyone he comes into contact with, just like another green-garbed asshole Ichigo is familiar with, but unfortunately for him Ichigo has practice deciphering those micro-expressions.

“We’ve got leftover rice from breakfast,” Shigure offers, “but this will be your only free meal, Freeloader-san.”

By the startled look on his face, he hasn’t been expecting Ichigo to practically double over in laughter.

“You sound like someone else I know,” Ichigo gasps, still chortling, in lieu of an explanation. It will take far too long to get into exactly why Renji was ‘freeloading’ at the Shōten in the first place.

“He sounds like someone you’re close to,” Shigure replies without missing a beat. “So why are you trying to live in a tent in the middle of the woods instead of asking him for a temporary place to stay?”

Asking him –

And then thing is, Ichigo knows Shigure is right. If he had really been down on his luck and needed a place to crash back in his old universe, he knows that Urahara would have offered him a room, no questions asked. But obviously, that’s impossible right now.

He eyes Shigure again.

Well, he might not be a shinigami, or a genius mad scientist, but he’s a _fiction writer_.

So he says, “Because the dimensional rift that dumped me in the middle of your woods made it very clear that I can’t go back if I want my friends and family to live.”

Shigure startles – badly. There is suddenly a large black dog where Shigure had been sitting, hindquarters dangling awkwardly off the chair as he scrabbles not to fall unceremoniously off the chair.

“Huh,” Ichigo says, and shovels another spoonful of rice into his mouth. Even if it’s just seasoned with furikake, it’s _good_. “So can you still talk in that form, or do you have to transform back to human first?”

The dog barks.

“That’s a no then,” Ichigo concludes. So, not exactly like Yoruichi, but still some kind of shapeshifter. Also seems to have some trouble turning back to his human self, he notes idly, polishing off the last of his rice. That speaks of either lack of practice, or the transformation isn’t voluntary. Given that it’s a version of Urahara, Ichigo is going to bet on the latter. “You’re like an Arrancar, then.” Sort of. Or would it be _Vizard_ , since he can’t control it? “Someone who takes on animal traits occasionally,” he elaborates.

The dog falls out of the chair with a thump.

It’s another few moments, during which Ichigo finished off his second helping, before Shigure is back to sitting across from him in human form.

“You seem to be taking this rather well,” Shigure notes. There’s not a hair out of place, nor is he naked like Yoruichi gets after her transformations. “Seen a lot of animal transformations where you come from?”

“Something like that,” Ichigo agrees. If he had to count all the times Yoruichi transformed in front of him, plus every time an Arrancar went into Resurrección… “What’s your trigger?”

Shigure pauses minutely. “Whenever I feel strong emotion,” he reveals, “and when I am embraced by someone of the opposite sex.”

“Good thing you’re gay then,” Ichigo says without thinking.

There is a very long pause, and by the time Ichigo looks up to see what’s wrong, there is a very complicated expression on Shigure’s face.

“You checked me out the first time I walked out of the tent,” Ichigo points out slowly, “and again when I bent over to finish packing up the tent.” He’s eighteen, not blind. “Sorry,” he adds belatedly, thinking of the _heterosexual_ romance novel he just put down, “was I not supposed to acknowledge that?”

“No, it’s fine,” Shigure responds, apparently on autopilot, and then shakes himself furiously exactly like a canine would. “Aren’t you afraid?” he asks suddenly.

“No, not really.” Ichigo helps himself to another bowl of rice, tearing a third packet of furikake open. “Why, are you planning to hurt me?”

Slowly, Shigure shakes his head.

“All right then.” Urahara has a tendency to mislead or downplay the situation, but he doesn’t usually lie baldly to his face. Ichigo is willing to bet that Shigure is much of the same.

“Akito-sama may not be happy about your presence,” Shigure warns, in the tone of someone revealing a deep dark secret.

It’s a pity that Ichigo is so unimpressed. “That’s the God-type controlling your transformations, then?” he asked in a long-suffering tone, although it was kind of a rhetorical question.

Shigure looks like he doesn’t know how to answer. “Is that... common where you came from?”

Ichigo shrugs. “We get an invasion about every year or so,” he reveals, since it doesn’t seem to matter anymore. “The latest one was pretty bad, the general on the other side had the ability to see into all possible futures in our reality, which is why we ended up needing dimension-warping powers to defeat him. Hence –” he waves his chopsticks “– my presence here.”

Mmm, the food is good.

“So?” Ichigo asks, finishing his fourth bowl and pushing his utensils aside with a satisfied sigh. If Shigure had been serious about employing him, Ichigo could get used to this. “What’s your game plan?”

Shigure blinks at him. “What makes you think I have a plan?”

Ichigo snorts. “I know someone like you,” he reminds Shigure, “and _he’s_ usually the reason we win.” Not this time, but the only reason why they could even make it up to the Soul King’s realm in the first place was because of Urahara – so Ichigo is willing to bet he still had a few tricks up his sleeve if it wasn’t for the fact that the Soul King’s Throne got there first.

Slowly, Shigure’s face breaks into a full-fledged smirk. He’s not bothering to hide it this time, so Ichigo can see the edge of _interest_ sparkling in his eyes, sense the potential for this _appreciation_ to grow into something more.

He grins back, leaning forwards as Shigure begins to speak.

Maybe this universe wouldn’t be so bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Discord (spoiler warning, I do a lot of live-writing here)](https://discord.gg/8yJVmbD) | [Tumblr](http://starriewolf.tumblr.com)


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